


The Storm

by SLock



Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom, Sherlock BBC
Genre: M/M, Scared John Watson, Storms, Thunder and Lightning, fears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 04:13:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLock/pseuds/SLock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John doesn't want to admit that he fears storms, but of course in front of Sherlock there is no hiding anything. Though fear doesn't need to reside within John while Sherlock is around...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Another little fic, I am working on something more bigger... multi chapter fic of sorts. Thanks for the Kudos on Cut Lip means a lot to know people liked it.   
> Hope you all like this one, please feel free to comment if you see some drastic mistake. I shall be writing more like these so stick around!!

John only had one single fear in his life, and it was the fear of thunder. When he was in Afghan he would face bombs and bullets and the death of his friends but nothing ever truly scared him more than returning to the weather of England. 

He didn’t really know why he feared storms so much, perhaps he associated the loud clangs and bangs and the flickering’s of bright light with his temperamental father. Just like storms he too was unpredictable and scary. 

John lay in his bed, the curtains were shut tight but every time there was flash of lightening his whole room would light up casting eerie shadows on the pale green walls. He was curled up, his duvet tucked up to his shoulder and he had nested his head between two of his pillows. Still surrounding himself in the soft stretches of fabric seemed to do nothing to put him at ease. 

There was not an inch of him that wanted to admit he feared the weather, yet knowing that down stairs lying on the sofa was Sherlock Holmes. He didn’t know whether or not Sherlock would even humour his irrational fear yet he need some form of human contact, something to distract him from fear that lay outside. 

He sat up and slipped on his slippers, then made his way down to the living room. In the dark that swamped the usually familiar hallways John suddenly felt rather exposed, he walked much quicker and didn’t breathe until he was standing in the living room. 

The fire was lit up and it drowned the room in a soft, warm glow, in the flickering light John spotted Sherlock. The man wasn’t in his seat; instead he had comfortably plonked himself on the sofa. His long fingers were placed tip to tip together and he faced the fire. From where John stood he could see Sherlock had his eyes closed.   
Had he fallen asleep?

‘’Hullo John,’’ Sherlock said suddenly. It seemed that actually he hadn’t fallen asleep. 

‘’Sher – Sherlock.’’ John responded with a cough. He sat down next to Sherlock, feeling slightly odd on the sofa. ‘’Why are you sitting so far from the fire?’’ He asked. 

Sherlock looked at him, ‘’It got far too hot to sit right next to it and here is comfier. Why are you awake?’’ 

John shrugged; he didn’t want to admit anything. He was a lot calmer being in the presence of another person. The rain hitting the window was now rather soothing as opposed to the fear that it was someone… or something… trying to break in. The roaring fire sounded like white noise, just soothing. 

‘’You’re scared of the thunder aren’t you?’’ Sherlock asked. 

John nodded, chewing at his bottom lip. He was ashamed to show this side of himself. John was the military man. 

‘’Don’t be ashamed John, lots of people get scared of storms. True though that most of these people are children but there you go.’’ 

John glared at Sherlock, but when Sherlock chuckled John couldn’t help but smile back. ‘’I just don’t like storms okay,’’ 

With a nodding head Sherlock retreated back to silence, he didn’t mind that John found comfort in his presence. He actually quite enjoyed that John needed him; it was nice to be needed for something other than detective work. 

For a little while they didn’t talk, their arms brushed together every so often and their knees knocked into each other but neither minded. Lightning suddenly cracked through the night sky, and it sparked the fear that had slowly drifted away from John.

He knew it was coming, and he braced himself. His hands on his knees and his head facing down as if the thunder was a bracing punishment. He shivered, nerves coursed up his arms and through his shoulders before deciding to roll down his spine. 

But when a hand placed its self gently upon his shoulder all that fear went, he turned round and saw the worry in Sherlock’s face. His angular face softened by fear for his dear friend. Sherlock pulled John back, and neither of them spoke as John rested his head upon Sherlock’s chest and his legs curled up onto the sofa. The thunder struck but John didn’t jump, instead he tightly gripped the shirt that Sherlock wore. As he felt Sherlock’s hand go up and down his back he released his grip.

The thunder stopped, yet the rain continued. John pulled up slightly, he went to thank his friend but something stopped him. They both looked at each other, their eyes locking.   
The lightning that had struck before sparked something else in the pair of them. 

Just like before no words needed to be spoken as they brought their lips together, gently at first as they were unsure as to how to go about this new found need for one another. Then the urgency struck them, and as a second flash of lightning came down from the sky neither of them braced themselves for the thunder. 

John pushed into Sherlock, causing the taller man to lie flat on the sofa. John sat on him and grinded into him, their lips still furiously battling in a need of desire. Sherlock grappled at the back of John’s shirt and he brought it up, his finer nails scratching John just ever so slightly. 

A shiver coursed through John, unlike the fear this was wanted. He pulled away for a second to rip his shirt off, before coming down again and kissing Sherlock. His own fingers fumbled at Sherlock’s shirt, but instead of pulling it off straight away he allowed his fingers to glide across the taught, pale skin. 

Teasing himself enough John finally pulled the shirt up, they parted again allowing Sherlock to pull his shirt off and chucking it fair away. John sat up; his knees placed firmly either side of Sherlock’s body. He inspected the man; his pale skin glistened in the dying fire light. He ran his fingers down the man’s stomach enjoying the feel beneath his fingers. Sherlock did the same, but his fingers ran up… past his scar and to the back of his neck where his fingers curled gently. 

He pulled John down, and this time their kiss was much softer. Their skin touched and it caused fire between them. Sherlock had not felt the pleasure he was feeling at that moment in time for so many years. The last time he felt the touch of another person this way was when he was in Uni and it wasn’t so wanted. 

He allowed his fingers to stay locked at the back of John’s face, his other hand crept down to the PJ bottoms, he slipped his hand in and found the hard cock already leaking with pre-cum. He ran his thumb over the head and his eyes widened in shock as he heard John gasp. 

He did it again, and John moaned again with a tremble. John pushed his hand down and pulled at Sherlock’s bottoms with a need to reveal what was inside. Sherlock pulled his hand away from John and allowed him to sit up to pull down his pants. They both fumbled with the bottoms and they laughed as they struggled but soon they were on the floor, revealing a long and pink cock to John. 

John pulled his bottoms off, with much more grace than the man beneath him. He lent down again and kissed Sherlock, his cock brushing on Sherlock’s stomach. The kiss was gentle and simple, full of joy and need. 

Sherlock grasped John’s hips and pulled them into a much more desirable position, their cocks met and they both breathed with need. With his long and elegant fingers Sherlock wrapped his hand around their cocks, and when John started to move up and down they both shivered in ache. They couldn’t kiss no more, both needing to look at each other as they worked on their oncoming storm. 

‘’J – j – John!!’’ Sherlock moaned, the breath that flew with the words stroked John’s neck and it pushed the pain further into him. He wanted to release, but he need to know   
Sherlock was ready… and he didn’t have to wait long. Sherlock was panting, moaning, begging to be released. 

Cum spurted out of their cocks at the same time, and they both screamed as the orgasm struck them. John pushed his lips to Sherlock to capture his sounds, and as their orgasm came to a delightful end they shivered through it with kisses. 

Sherlock released their cocks, and they both flopped down from being spent. John pulled away and grabbed some random clothing item from the floor, not caring if it was his or Sherlock’s, and used it to mop up the pool of cum on Sherlock’s stomach. 

John flopped back on to the sofa, his back dripping in sweat but he didn’t care. He finished the mopping and chucked the now rags on the floor. Sherlock lay still, his cock lying between his legs. He had pulled one arm up and it rested behind his head. John chuckled at the casualness that prevailed from Sherlock. Sherlock, with narrow eyes, inspected with John then gave a soft smile. He grasped at his shoulder and pulled him down, and John complied by resting his head on Sherlock’s chest. 

Another flash of lightning ran through the house again and as the thunder followed John wasn’t scared, he wouldn’t be while Sherlock kept stroking his shoulder in soft glides with his long fingers.


End file.
